


Mouse Meets Wolf

by ArgentGale



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Shameless Smut, hard smut, marol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-17
Updated: 2014-05-17
Packaged: 2018-01-25 10:13:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1645034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArgentGale/pseuds/ArgentGale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carol confronts Merle, faces her fears, and the little mouse ends up meeting the wolf.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mouse Meets Wolf

I shouldn’t be down here, alone, she thought to herself. Merle’s eyes glittered almost feral, in the dim light of his cell. He was laying on is back on the tiny cot. 

As she approached, he sat up. “Weeell, if it isn’t the little mouse.” He practically spat the words. 

“Merle.” She tried to sound strong, but it came out so weak. She cringed inwardly.

He rose and stalked towards her. He reminded her of some sort of predator, eyeing up prey. Gauging weakness. His lips wore a half sneer. 

She froze. Oh this was such a mistake. Merle Dixon was a different creature from his brother. She could handle Daryl. Merle was unpredictable. Volatile. Dangerous. 

“Watch myself? Really, little mouse?” He slowly circled her. 

“You hurt my friends.” She found her voice, she sounded stronger than she felt.

“And what if I don’t….watch myself?” he sneered, pausing in front of her. “What’s this little mousie going to do to me?”

She swallowed thickly. 

“I’ll kill you.” she replied softly.

He barked out a laugh, sharp and short. 

“Hmmmm….a little killer mouse. Where are your claws? Where are your teeth?” She thought of her knife, useless back in her cell. 

He was close to her now, close to her ear. He was practically touching her. He smelled of whiskey and tobacco. She knew she should be repulsed. Should slap him. Should leave. She remained rooted to the spot, held fast by feelings she couldn’t process. 

It distressed her. He was the type of filth she didn’t need in her life. She stood straight and tall. She would not let him intimidate her.   
He was behind her now. 

He leaned in, she could feel his breath on the nape of her neck. She trembled and it wasn’t from fear. She hated herself for it. 

“Little, little mousie, challenging the wolf,” he rumbled low. “Why d’ja come down here all by yourself? All alone. What are you lookin’ for lil mouse?”  
His voice was so low she had to strain to hear it.

She bit her lip when his lips grazed the back of her neck. She cursed her body for responding. The growing dampness between her legs. She needed to leave….now.  
It was too late. He spun her around to face him and backed her, hard, against the wall, causing her to gasp.

He loomed over her, his lips so close to hers that a piece of paper would be hard pressed to fit between them. Her breath came in quick gasps.   
Running his thumbs over her wrists, he whispered, “Show me what ya got lil mouse.” 

She didn’t fight him when his mouth found hers, didn’t protest when his tongue slipped between her lips. He tasted of whiskey, smoke, and sin. She hated herself for the low moan that escaped her. Hated the heat building between her legs. 

He pressed against her and she could feel his hardness pressed against her thigh, insistent. She leaned into him hungrily.

She gasped as he ran his hands under her shirt, slipping them under her bra to squeeze her breasts roughly, tugging at her hardening nipples. A cry of pleasure escaped her lips. 

His kiss was rough, insistent. He bit her lower lip as his hands moved to her belt, roughly undoing it. She found her hands moving in kind to follow suit, fumbling with his belt buckle, her mind lost in a haze of lust.

He broke the kiss to finish the job of unzipping and unbuttoning. Roughly he pushed her pants down, panties and all, her belt buckle ringing with a metallic clang as it hit the hard concrete floor.  
He ran a finger up her cleft, finding her soaked. 

“All ready for me aren’t ya,” he murmured low. “How long has it been since you’ve been fucked, lil mouse?” 

She could only shake her head, dizzy with lust. She hated herself. 

He traced her slit, dipping his finger into her channel, causing her to gasp. 

Pausing he, undid his pants, along his cock to spring free. Carol briefly noted the size and hoped she would be able to take him, it had been a long time. A very long time.

He roughly lifted her up, holding her firm against cold cinder block wall. She felt the rough surface bite into her shoulders, the chill seeping through the thin fabric of her shirt. With a grunt he slid up and inside her. She sucked her breath in sharply at the brief moment of discomfort. He was still for a heartbeat, letting her wet heat settle around him. Then slowly he began to move, drawing out of her.   
She hated how good it felt, his length slipping slowly from her and then deliciously sliding back in, filling her. She never realized how much she needed this. Wanted this. 

He held her hips and taking her cue, began to fuck her hard. Her mind was lost then, white hot in lust and animalistic yearning. She didn’t even recognize the cries that escaped her throat. She found his mouth and kissed him hard, biting his lip enough to draw a little blood, raking her fingers across his back, urging him on with cries.

He didn’t speak, merely continued driving into her, the only sounds were those of their carnal coupling. 

When she came, it matched the savagery of their fucking. Her body shaking with the intensity of her orgasm. She snarled as she cried out his name.

He drove into her all the harder, meeting his release, spurting hot inside her. She could feel his cock twitching deep inside her.  
Spent, he sagged against her.

Drawing ragged breaths, they stared each other down as sweat cool their bodies.

Gathering herself, she whispered, “This doesn’t change a thing. You hurt my friends, I’ll kill you in your sleep.”

The mouse had met the wolf, and won.


End file.
